


Moon River

by armani (norseblue)



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-01-01
Updated: 2001-01-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 20:50:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2402432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norseblue/pseuds/armani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toby watches Chris sleep and wonders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moon River

I wonder what you dream.

I used to know a man who had lost his left arm, and he told me that when he slept, in all of his dreams he had both arms. When he woke up in the morning, he'd remember that he only had the one arm. He said it was like getting it chopped off all over again, every day of his life.

I wonder if when you dream, you dream you're on the outside. You're living a normal life. You're happy. And when you wake up, you have to remember all over again that you're in Oz.

I brush the back of my hand along your cheek and you softly sigh my name, "Toby"

I wonder if you dream about me.

I wonder if you dream that we're together. We have a little apartment. I practice law, and you well, you do whatever you would have done if your life hadn't gotten so badly screwed up so early on, whatever you wanted to be when you were a little kid. Maybe a teacher I think you would have made a good teacher. You can sometimes be so patient; I can just see you with a class of thirty 5-year-olds, calmly explaining that paste is supposed to go on their collages and not into their mouths.

You're chuckling softly in your sleep, almost as if you can see in your dreams what I'm thinking. Maybe you can.

We would raise Holly, you and me. I'd fix her pancakes in the morning, and you'd tie crooked pink bows in her hair. You'd say she looks so much like me and why don't we try the pink bows in my hair tomorrow, and Holly would laugh and say that we're silly.

We'd tuck her into bed together in the evening; you'd look for monsters under her bed, and I'd read to her about princesses and dragons and happy endings. We'd kiss her on her forehead and tiptoe out, silently closing the door.

You would reach down and take my hand into yours, pausing to kiss each of my fingertips. A split second before you bite one of my fingers, you'd give me that feral grin that always makes my knees sweat. I'd gasp quietly, and you'd put your finger to my lips to silence me. You'd start pulling me down the hall to the bedroom, _our_ bedroom.

We'd have a room all to ourselves, with real walls. No prying eyes peering in through glass partitions; no one beating on the door telling us to knock it off. Just us.

Just you and me. And a bed the size of a basketball court.

You're smiling again.

I wonder what you dream.


End file.
